


Staring at the Sun

by chooken



Category: Westlife
Genre: Anger, Angst, Arguing, Declarations Of Love, Denial of Feelings, Friends to Lovers, Gay For You, I'm sorry about the swearing, Kissing, M/M, Masturbation, Rough Kissing, Swearing, so much swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-31
Updated: 2014-12-31
Packaged: 2018-03-04 13:10:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3069350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chooken/pseuds/chooken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Why do I only write angsty Bryan stories?  I don't know.</p>
<p>There's finally a moment for Shane and Bryan to talk.  Shane isn't sure he wants to.  Bryan is sure he does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Staring at the Sun

Waking up was strange. Panicking, Shane sat bolt-upright in bed, wondering why his alarm hadn’t gone off. After long, stressful months of promoting their third album, getting up at 8:43 in the morning was worrying. Shouldn’t he be somewhere? Heart pounding, he looked around himself, scanning the room for any clue on what he was supposed to do next.

As reality set back in, returning his breath, he sank back into the mattress. He blinked at the ceiling, then closed his eyes again, relishing the darkness.

“Fuck me,” he muttered to himself. “It’s finally here.”

He didn’t know what to do. Finally back in Ireland after the World Of Our Own tour, no concerts to do, no TV appearances scheduled, no meetings to attend. He felt lost amongst the boundless freedom that stretched out before him.

He was almost relieved when his phone rang.

“Shane?” A voice spoke before he could even say hello. Shane closed his eyes, familiarity rushing through him.

“Bryan,” he whispered.

“Er… yeah. Got it in one. Uh…”

Old conversations rewound in his head. Suddenly, Shane knew what Bryan was going to say next.

“You said we could… I don’t know if you remember… but you said when you weren’t busy for once…”

“I remember.” Shane interrupted.

“Oh.”

“Half an hour,” he replied. “I’ll come to you.”

He hung up, not caring if Bryan intended a reply.

*

“Beer?”

“It’s ten in the morning.”

Shane had been late. He’d showered quickly, but had spent an absurd amount of time picking a shirt and feeling stupid. Bryan had seen him covered in his own vomit. Why did a shirt matter?

Bryan looked nice, anyway.

“Yeah, I guess.” Bryan opened his own beer. “I’ll make you a cup of tea?”

“I’m fine.” His mouth felt dry. “Water’s fine.”

A glass appeared quickly. Bryan’s bottle was already half empty by the time he joined Shane at the kitchen table. Shane was glad they hadn’t gone into the living room. He couldn’t have stood the close confines of a couch.

“So. How are things?”

“Cut the crap.” Shane caught the pained look on Bryan’s face and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Sorry. I’m tense.”

“It’s cool. I get it.” Bryan’s fingers fidgeted under the table, and Shane felt toes brush his leg, though from Bryan’s own reactionary jerk he assumed it was an accident. They both shifted awkwardly in their chairs, gazes skirting each other.

Bryan finally looked up, grimacing. “So I don’t suppose you’ve thought about…”

Shane shrugged. “I have.”

“And…?”

“I don’t know, Bry.” Shane wished he could go back to bde. This was all too tiring. “I mean, I know how you feel…”

“I love you.”

“Don’t…say that.” Shane ran his tongue over dry lips. “It’s not fair. Isn’t it enough that I know?”

Bryan shook his head. “Not for me.”

“I told you not to hope.”

“Easier said.”

“Do you have to be so difficult?”

“I’m sorry,” Bryan drawled. “Is this hard for you?”

“I’ll fucking leave.”

“No you won’t.” Bryan said flatly, meeting Shane’s challenge with a flick of his head, like a horse. Shane, through his indignation, looked for uncertainty in his friend’s eyes. What he found was something else. He looked away, scowling.

“Don’t assume you know me.”

“I do know you.”

“You’ve got no right to,” Shane snarled back. “And I don’t know you.”

“Sure you do.” Bryan turned demanding eyes on him. Shane wanted to gouge them out.

“What the fuck do you want from me?!” Shane’s chair screeched backwards over the tiles as he stood. Bryan glared back.

“I don’t know, Shane. What do you want?”

“I want you to go fuck yourself!”

“What, so you can watch again?”

Shane froze, breathing hard, old images and feelings roaring back. Bryan, laid in front of the TV, and Shane’s eyes barely interested in the action onscreen. Fixed instead on the hand working Bryan’s own shaft. He felt sweat trickle over his temple.

“I’m not arguing with you,” he said flatly, hoping his blush would be mistaken as an angry flush.

Which was unlikely. Bryan knew him, after all.

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“Smartarse.” Shane wanted his feet to move toward the door, but instead they’d decided to melt to the tiles. Bryan sighed.

“I don’t _want_ to argue with you.”

Shane sank back into the chair, pulling it closer to the table and trying not to rest his head in his own arms. For some reason, looking weak was the last thing he wanted to do.

“Me either.”

“So what do you want to do, then?”

A laugh bubbled hysterically over Shane’s lips. “I’ve got no fucking clue.”

Bryan laughed too, rolling his eyes skyward. A rueful smile tickled Shane’s lips.

“Have you had breakfast?” Bryan said finally. Shane shook his head.

“Kind of got distracted.”

“I could murder a cheeseburger.”

“I thought you were on a health kick?”

“Desperate times, and all that.” Bryan winked. “Want to go for a walk?”

Shane stood, reaching for his jacket.

*

They ended up sitting in a small café, ordering burgers and beer. Shane had decided alcohol wasn’t such a bad idea after all, especially if he was supposed to be talking about all this. But even though Bryan wanted to get some takeaway and go sit near the river and away from the public, Shane had to insist on a seat inside. He wasn’t ready to be alone with Bryan again. Not yet.

“Shay, I know this is…” Bryan’s whisper was mercifully cut off by a waiter bringing them their drinks. Shane stared at the condensation running down the glass, trying not to think about Bryan biting his lip.

“I don’t feel that way, Bry,” Shay murmured. Bryan nodded, taking a sip from his glass and glancing out the window. He swallowed. Shane watched his adam’s apple bob.

It was fucking ridiculous. He wasn’t gay. Bryan was not at all attractive, and Shane certainly didn’t feel anything more than friendship for him.

“Why do you?”

Bryan shrugged. “I don’t know.” He said in a low voice, glancing around at the other patrons. “You’re a boring midget farmer with no fucking sense of fashion. It’s stupid, really. But I…” He bit his lip again. “I mean, if I was rational, I’d probably go for Mark. But he’s…” He lowered his voice some more. “He’s not the one who does it for me.”

“Great.” Shane sighed, trying not to let Bryan’s description of him hurt. But it kind of did. Which was just stupid. “So you want to get into my pants? That’s it?”

“No. That’s not it. I’d like…” Bryan shrugged. “I really like you, Shay. I mean… you. I wanna do stuff for you and spend time with you. You know. That kind of thing.”

“Friends can do that.”

“Not… like this.” Bryan bit his lip again. Jesus, what was with that? He was going to fucking gnaw it off in a moment. Shane wanted to reach over and slap him.

He was suddenly hyperaware of everything Bryan was doing. The lip-biting thing, yeah, but the constant shifting in his chair, the way his fingers nervously caressed the curve of his glass, the gaze that would stare intently at Shane before flickering around the room, as though Shane was the sun and staring at him too long would burn out those blue eyes.

Those blue eyes that had shuddered closed as Bryan’s hand moved in a blur. Shane closed his own eyes for a moment, sweat once again itching over his temple. When he opened them, Bryan was looking at him again.

“I get it.”

“But you don’t feel the same.”

Feeling very tired, Shane shook his head.

“No, Bry. I don’t. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah.” Bryan nodded. His hands fidgeted under the table. All of a sudden he wasn’t even looking at Shane anymore. Not even for those fleeting, sun-bright moments. “Well, I’m gonna go.”

“You haven’t eaten yet.” Shane said, casting a glance at the bare table. “Stay and eat.”

“No, I don’t think…” Bryan fished into his wallet, fished out a twenty, and put it down on the table. “Here.”

“Bry, you don’t have to…”

“I kind of do, Shay.” Bryan stood, draining in his glass in the process. “Look, we’ll talk later, okay?”

But before he could formulate a response, Bryan was gone. Shane watched him pass the window on his way down the street, watched him thrust his hands into his pockets and try not to glance through the glass at Shane. Making a quick decision, Shane fumbled for his wallet, dropping the first note he found on top of Bryan’s twenty.

“I wondered how long it would take you.” Bryan was walking quite quickly when Shane, panting, caught up with him.

“What?”

“You always have to have the last word.” Bryan snickered, though there was no heart in it. “Come on then.” He glanced at Shane, but didn’t break his stride. “Out with it.”

“I don’t know what to say.” Shane admitted, hurrying to keep up. Bryan was right – he was short.

“Then why are you stalking me?”

“Because you’re a fucking celebrity.” Shane retorted, angry again. “Seriously, Bryan. Stop fucking acting like you know me?”

“I do.”

“Then why did you walk out? We’re still friends.”

“It’s not enough for me, alright?” Shane stumbled when Bryan stopped suddenly in the crowd, glaring at Shane. “I’m sorry, but it’s not.”

“So the last three years mean nothing to you?”

“They mean too fucking much! Don’t you get it?”

“I do fucking get it. But I’m not gay, and you’re being a fucking child about all this.” He glanced around, abruptly realising he was shouting about their sexualities in the middle of a crowded street. There was a small alley nearby. He dragged Bryan into it.

“I’m being a fucking child?” Bryan laughed bitterly. “Children pretend, Shane. Just like you’re trying to.”

“What am I pretending?”

“That you’re not attracted to me.”

Shane would have punched Bryan had he not redirected it at the rubbish skip blocking them from the street. He registered his knuckles grazing against the metal, but barely felt it. He spun to face Bryan again, his eyes hot.

“You’re fucking pretending, if you think that.”

“Ooh, big comeback.”

“Fuck you.” Shane growled. “Fuck you, you fucking cocksucking cunt.”

Bryan didn’t say anything. He just laughed. This time Shane’s hand did lift, reaching up to slap Bryan. What he wasn’t prepared for was the hand that closed around his moving wrist and twisted, dragging him into a hard, unforgiving kiss.

A solid body pressed against his, slamming him into the side of the skip, Bryan’s other hand grabbing his waist and squeezing hard enough to hurt. Shane felt his lips bruise, then part, separated by Bryan’s tongue. It thrust deep, almost gagging him, and teeth grazed his top lip. Shane bit back, sinking his teeth into Bryan’s bottom lip when the tongue removed itself and he could breathe again.

But Bryan wouldn’t stop. He just made a sound… fuck, Shane had heard that sound before. Seen the hardness pressing into his stomach. Bryan was much taller than him. For a wild moment, Shane wondered how ridiculous they looked, but before he had time to form a coherent thought Bryan was pulling away. The sudden flurry of movement stopped as they stared at each other, both breathing hard. His hand stuck to the skip as he went to pull it off, and Bryan laughed, helping him remove the chewing gum that he’d managed to acquire during their kiss.

Then they stopped again, both looking at the hand held in Bryan’s.

“You liked that.” Bryan said quietly. Shane felt a hot blush crawl over his skin, very aware of his own erection.

“I didn’t.” He whispered, then swallowed and reiterated: “I didn’t.”

“You did.” His hand was lifted, and lips pressed to the pad of his thumb. “I know you did.”

Shane swallowed again. His mouth was far too dry. Bryan was biting his lip once more. Shane drew in a deep breath.

“Bryan…” He shook his head. “When?”

“When we were writing for the album together.” Bryan shrugged. “I like writing with you. And I guess… I guess I realised that I was writing for you. What I couldn’t say…” Shane felt tears prick his eyes. “You make me… work, I guess. I feel like there’s a point when…” He laughed, covering his face with the hand that wasn’t still holding Shane’s. “God, strip away all the fancy lyrics and I have no idea how to express myself.”

“The curse of being a guy, I guess.” Shane laughed too, trying to pretend he didn’t want to curl his hand around Bryan’s.

“Yeah.” They both grinned stupidly. Bryan took a deep breath. “Well.”

“Well,” Shane echoed, biting his own lip. He snorted. Christ, was lip-biting a communicable disease?

“Er… what next?”

“Dunno.” Shane shrugged, leaning against the wall. He took his hand back, gazing at his red knuckles. There was a little blood on them. “Can I say I was sexually assaulted against my will?”

Bryan gave him a lopsided smile. “Then why aren’t you running away?”

“You’ve hypnotised me.”

“I have?”

“Yeah.” Shane nodded. “It’s all your fault.” His heart was hammering in his chest. He could feel his pulse thrumming in his ears. Every breath felt painful. “And it’s…” His face turned bright red. “…and it’s your fault I want to…” He stammered to a halt. No, he was not about to say that. Because he didn’t. Christ, he really really didn’t.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Looking up into those blue, laughing eyes, Shane decided he really really did. “Er…”

“Is it… is it something like this?” Bryan was blushing too as his lips touched lightly to Shane’s. Shane’s hand curled around the taller man’s neck, this time letting the softly coaxing tongue enter unimpeded.

“Maybe.” Shane replied when the kiss ended.

“We could go somewhere else and find out?”

Shane looked around the dingy alley they were stood in, hidden from the street by the rubbish skip they were leant against. His hand was still sticky.

“Might be an idea.” Shane snorted. He looked up at Bryan, touching his hand for a second. “But I’m not gay.”

“I know.” Bryan said blithely. “You’re not attracted to me either.”

“I know.” Shane agreed. “But… I mean.” He smiled. “I mean, we could just… check, couldn’t we? No harm in making sure.”

“No, not at all. Very scientific.”

“Yeah.”

Shane looked at his watch as thy exited the alley. He really hadn’t expected to be going back to bed this early in the day.


End file.
